The Three Year Itch
by Fiercest
Summary: Elle tries everything in her power to keep Emmett from proposing before she does.


The Three Year Itch

x

By the time November rolls around Emmett is genuinely unsure if Elle is dead or alive.

Being in her final year of Law School, Elle was caught between being Stromwell's beleaguered TA, contributing to the Harvard Law Review and actually attending and studying for her classes. She hadn't been home in three days and he would be on the verge of calling an Amber Alert were it not from the occasional text from Vivienne or David confirming that she was alive, and semi-healthy, if jacked up on Red Bull.

 **Emmett:** _How's she doing?_

 **Viv:** _Energizer Bunny's finally run out of juice. She's passed out on my living room floor if you wanna come collect her._

Emmett smiled to himself and sighed. He was already in his ratty pjs, but he didn't mind. He grabbed his keys and drove over to pick up his poor over-extended girlfriend.

 _It's possible that I over emphasized the importance of hard work,_ he mused. He's never thought that possible before meeting Elle. She'd taken his lessons to heart, but unlike him, wasn't so great with the whole balance thing. She had the unfortunate sort of determination that didn't turn off even for sleep.

He knocked gently on Viv's door instead of ringing. It opened even as he was still knocking. She smiled gratefully and gestured for him to enter. "Thank god, I need to sleep. Get her out of my house." There was an undercurrent of humor to her snark, it was her sense of sarcasm that helped them get along. That and their shared exasperation with Elle, and impatience with everyone else.

He found Elle on the floor of Viv's living room amid textbooks, crumpled post-it notes and empty cans of Red Bull. More concerning though, was her makeup-less face and the sweatpants that he was pretty sure belonged to him. There was no starker message that Elle needed a break.

Emmett touched her shoulder gently, rousing her into the waking world. "Hey Sweetie, up you get."

"Mmmmm," she moaned. Elle stretched her arms above her head and arched her back.

Cradling her head in his elbow he helped her sit up. She yawned wide and blinked her eyes halfway open. "Morning already?" she asked, regretful.

"No Sweetheart, just taking you home."

"I just closed my eyes for a minute."

"I know, but you've done enough for tonight I think."

"Yeah," she whispered, falling against his neck.

"No more mister nice Emmett," Vivienne declared, barging into the room. He'd been whispering, coaxing Elle gently into wakefulness. Vivienne's voice was a notch higher volumed than most on a good day. "Elle, get up. Go sleep in a bed."

"HM WHAT AWAKE, IIIII'M AWAKE," Elle shrieked and sprung to her feet.

Vivenne smirked victorious and cocked her hand on her hip as if to say 'See? Vivienne knows best'.

"Yeah yeah," he waved her off and steered the disoriented Elle out the door.

Once at their building he half carried, half dragged her up to their third floor walkup. Once at the top of the stairs he got fed up and just picked her up and didn't put her down until he'd reached their bedroom.

Despite two years together he still felt awkward unhooking his girlfriend's bra and disentangling her from the straps.

"You're sweet," she whispered and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his face to her chest and holding him there.

He kissed her through the t-shirt, warm breath heating the cotton against her skin. She didn't let go, just held him there for a while. Despite himself, Emmett smiled and hugged her until sleep took her once more. Still, he didn't want to let go. He stood up to kick off his shoes and turn off the light and returned to her.

Under the covers he kissed her cheek and slung an arm over her waist, ready to pass out and sleep well past when their respective alarms would usually go off.

"Mmmm, you're all stubbly," he wasn't sure if it was statement or complaint.

He ran a hand down her face as if to manually close her eyes. "Shhhh, sleep." He commanded. "No reason to shave. Haven't seen you in a few days."

"Yeah," her breathy voice coasted over the skin of his neck as she snuggled closer. "Sorry. I've just," she stifled a yawn into his worn Harvard T-shirt, "been so swamped with everything. I'm sorry."

"I know, I know," he drew her closer, "I'm really proud of you. The benefit to dating me: I've been through it, I understand."

"Not the only benefit," she craned her neck up to kiss underneath his chin, then his neck. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Emmett nuzzled the top of her blonde head and held her close, "Don't worry about it. I'd rather have you here than anywhere else."

"You're too sweet."

"I do what I can."

They drifted off to sleep, exhaustion pulling them under.

In the morning, Elle woke with a start. "Shoot!" She sprang out of bed like a jack-in-the-box. She was half out of her pjs and into some comfortable study clothes when Emmett came in holding a mug of coffee and the newspaper.

"What are you doing?"

Elle, trapped with her blouse tangled around her arms and head, huffed, frustrated. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Emmett sighed and freed his hands up to help the beleaguered law student out of her cotton blend prison. Elle was bright red with frustration and embarrassment. "It's time for an intervention." She flopped back on the mattress clad in only her yoga pants and baby pink bra, yet she looked like a petulant child. "You're working too hard."

She raised her head to quirk an eyebrow at him, "Coming from you that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"You haven't slept or ate properly in weeks. It's Friday. It's Thanksgiving break. Do you have anything due Tuesday?"

"Some graded papers and-"

"Are they done?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And you have no tests this week."

"True, but-"

"So, just this once, you deserve a break."

Elle pouted, "Do you always have to be right?"

"By now you should really know the answer to that."

"Butthead," she stuck out her tongue at him in a taunt.

Not one to take that kind of sass lying down he jumped on top of her, practiced fingers finding her exposed ribs. "Say that again. Come say that to my face!"

Elle snorted, unable to reclaim air into her lungs, "I'll never surrender!" With all her might she bobbed her hips up, rolling them over so she was on top of him, binding his arms to his sides, hugging him like a koala. "You big je-eeeeeeeeerk!" she shrieked as he blew a raspberry into her neck.

Emmett took advantage and tried to roll them back over, not realizing they'd reached the side of the bed. Elle fell first, with Emmett on top, knocking the wind out of her. "Crap, Elle! Are you okay?!" This just made her laugh harder.

"Sweetheart, you're okay right?" despite himself, Emmett laughed too.

"Mhmm!" snort, "Totally." Blindly, Elle groped around for one of the pillows and hit him over the head. "It's like, so on, Forrest."

After a languorous morning spent in and around their bed, they finally emerged, in need of sustenance.

Elle sang to herself while Emmett boiled up the water for some mac and cheese. They moved around their tiny kitchen with the ease of two people used to being around each other. It was a rare morning when they weren't rushing through the motions of breakfast, so weekends like this one were to be savored.

"I haven't seen you in what feels like forever, how are you doing?" asked Emmett while stirring in the noodles.

"Okay," Elle replied with a heavy sigh, "Stressed. I'm not ready to be done, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"And Viv's already talking about after graduation. Guess what she wants to do."

"Go into business with Satan himself."

"Emmett!" she chastised and smacked his arm, playfully. "Oooh, you'll never guess. The Peace Corps."

"You're _kidding_."

"No! She wants to help people."

"Are you sure she didn't say something else and you misheard?"

"No, definitely Peace Corps."

"Hm," he thought for a moment, "Good for her." He gave her a sidelong glance, wary of being caught out. "And you? What's your plan?" Very casual sounding. Very impressive. If he didn't know any better he could swear that his heart didn't hinge completely on her next few words.

"Take the Bar probably."

He coughed, "Back in California?" He practically had a PhD in 'Cool'.

Elle bit her lip and stared at his back. "Well, some of Daddy's friends have offered me jobs after I graduate." She was fishing, and she almost wished he knew it.

"Oh? Anything good?"

Her laugh sounded forced even to her own ears, "One or two. What about you? What made you decide to stay here?"

"Honestly, Callahan offered me a job straight away, so I took it without even looking elsewhere."

"And after that?"

He smirked and finally turned to face her, "Come on, I couldn't just leave after everything with the Wyndham trial." He smiled as Elle blushed, "I stayed a lot because it was the smart thing. But a little because of… well… you."

"You didn't want to maybe move closer to your mom?"

"I don't know, here isn't so far," he smiled, "Something you want to ask me Elle?"

"No! Not at all, I just-"

"Listen, Elle-" Food, forgotten for the moment, Emmett kneeled in front of her seat at the table so they were eye to eye. "You've spent a long time away from home. If you wanted to go back, don't factor me into that decision."

"I can't just not factor you into my decision," she said, like that was the most ludicrous thing she'd ever heard. "I love you. And when you love someone, you have to be willing to give something up."

"You shouldn't have to compromise. Elle, all you do is give, you need to learn to take a little back." He took her hands in his and squeezed. "I'd go with you. If LA is where you want to go, then that's where we're going to be. We're a team."

"You'd really follow me 3000 miles? To _California?_ You hate California!"

"Elle," he said slowly, as if gearing up for explaining that 2+2=4, "I would follow you anywhere. I'd follow you to Timbuktu if you asked. And I've never even been to California."

The thing is, Elle knew this in theory. She had always known this. She and Emmett had been a team since day 1. She loved and trusted him. She had confidence in him like she'd never had in anyone ever before. Theirs was a relationship built on the kind of understanding that's so implicit they often didn't need words. But knowing a thing and hearing it, are different beasts entirely.

Elle threw herself into his arms and held him tight. Tears sprang, unbidden, to her eyes. "I wouldn't make you move to LA." She sniffed into his shoulder.

"You wouldn't be making me."

Elle had been willing to pick up her life and move for another man, not so long ago. It had never occurred to her back then to wonder if Warner would have done the same. With Emmett, Elle did not have to wonder at all.

"I know," said Elle, still tearful, "But still. We have plenty of time to figure it out. Wherever we go, we'll be together. As long as we've got each other, I don't really care where we live."

"Okay, I think I can get on board with that."

February came and went just as quickly as December and January. March 1st found Vivienne and Elle hard at work in the Woods/Forrest household's little living room.

Around six Emmett came home to find the pair in much the same positions he'd left them, 11 hours before. "Hi girls."

"Hey Sweetheart." "Hey Em." Came the simultaneous, distracted replies.

"Mail for you," he dropped a small stack in Elle's lap and moved into the kitchen, which was really just a corner of their living room. "Two more Wedding invites."

"Wow," said Elle, tearing a crisp, cream envelope open. "How many does that make now?"

"In our year?" asked Vivenne drolly.

"Nine? Ten?"

"Eleven," Viv whispered to Elle, nudging her with her foot. The blonde shushed her harshly and loudly.

"What?" asked Emmett from the kitchen.

"I said ten!" she replied, loud enough for the man to hear. "It's because we're graduating. Most of our classmates are older than you Elle, they've put off getting married until they had the time."

Emmett, a nice shade of maroon, chimed in nervously. "Oh yeah, I forgot that was a thing. It happens every year. Elle, I'm gonna jump in the shower. Are you almost done?"

"Oh right! Dinner!"

"If you're not, we don't have to go."

"No no," Vivienne protested, "We're good. If I have to read the same chapter one more time I'm going to be sick."

"Okay then," he said sunnily, heading for the bedroom and adjoining bathroom.

Elle kicked Vivienne, hard.

"Ow, Elle, what the-"

"Shhhhh," she trilled. Elle reached into her knapsack and withdrew a dark blue velvet ring box.

"Oh my god Elle, did you find that?"

"What? No. I bought it."

"Oh no," Vivienne understood that sometimes Elle's brain worked differently than normal people's, but this was not an instance where that was a good thing. Prepared to steer her friend out of an undoubtedly disastrous plan, she opened her mouth to chastise the blonde. "Elle, I don't know what weird thing you're planning here but you don't need to trick that boy into marrying you. Have you looked at him? The guy's so in love with you that frankly, I feel physically ill just being in the same room. He cross-examined a man _in public_ based on a frankly very stereotype-based hunch of yours." To Vivienne there was no clearer sign of true love than the willingness to fail where there were witnesses to see it. "And that was two years ago. The two of you have only gotten more nauseating since. You have a secret handshake."

"What?" Elle's blue eyes widened, "Oh no! It's not for me!" she popped open the case to reveal a thick platinum band with rounded edges. It was very tasteful. "It's for him. I'm going to ask Emmett to marry me." Inwardly, she heard a whole studio audience worth of cheering.

Vivienne had to commend the girl's confidence. "Why?"

And while the woman could come off judgmental, Elle knew that she was only curious. "Well. I worked hard enough to get into Harvard and moved across the country to be with Warner… How the heck am I supposed to top that? I love Emmett more than I've ever loved anybody. This is the best relationship I've ever had. That _anyone's_ ever had. I want him to know that I would do anything for him, that he's my partner."

"Wow…" After a speech like that… "How are you going to do it?"

She didn't rightly know. "I was thinking I could cook him dinner-"

Her friend made a loud noise like a buzzer on a game show, "Yeah no. You're not doing that. You want romance, not a night in the ER."

"Okay fine, so I'll order in, I'll dress up really sexy and leave him little notes everywhere throughout the day, ooooh I'll lay out that suit he won't admit he likes! And we can be all fancy-"

"Elle, Elle, Elle, I'm going to stop you right there."

She pouted, having worked herself into excitement over the idea.

"You want him to know that you'd do anything for him right? So make it a big gesture. Make it public."

"But Emmett doesn't like that kind of stuff," PDA beyond a certain point made her boyfriend so uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but think of it this way, it's like shouting from the rooftops that you want him."

"Like literally? 'Cause I'm not great with heights, but I'll-"

"No," said Vivienne flatly. "Not literally. But I'd go big if I were you."

"Maybe you're right… Oh!" she gasped and brought her hands to her cheeks. "But what do I do if he tries to ask me?"

Vivienne laughed, "Confident! I like it!"

"Well," Elle turned shy, "It's just like that. I don't know, I just, when he looks at me… It's total proposal eyes."

"You'd know," Vivienne joked and shoved her gently.

"Yeah yeah. But seriously, what do I do?"

"Just distract him."

"How do I do that?"

Vivienne rolled her eyes and just sort of gestured generally at Elle's person. "I'm sure you can figure it out just fine on your own. If not, we have a whole different set of problems."

As it turns out, not long after Viv left Emmett emerged from the bedroom in her favorite suit, wearing a _name brand_ tie and looking dapper as all heck.

Elle could have swooned.

She looked down at her almost ratty ensemble and almost bolted past him to change, herself. She had not planned accordingly for this sort of date. She had planned for a 'casual Italian place where the chairs are mismatched' not one on an 'Emmett looks so good I could eat him' level. She'd need some time to pick out an outfit.

"What are you doing?" said delectable litigator asked coyly, leaning against the doorjamb.

Elle gestured to herself, "I can't leave the house like this."

"Yeah," agreed Emmett, approaching her, "You look terrible, face-wise." He hugged her tightly as she protested.

"That is just so rude, even as a joke."

"I don't care what you wear."

"You never do, I dress for me."

"I'm very aware," he laughed. Some choices she made could only be rationalized that way. A pause, "You know I was kidding about your face right? It's definitely in my top 3 favorite faces, I swear."

Elle laughed and kissed his nose, "Couldn't stand up to my wily interrogation techniques huh? Good thing you're never the one on the stand."

"You never know, maybe I buried the rest of the top three in the shrubs out back."

They made the decision to walk to and from the restaurant. It was a warm evening and they shared a bottle of wine at dinner.

Elle giggled loudly in the quiet streets, not quite drunk, not even tipsy, but a little buzzed and a lot high on her boyfriend's presence. She twirled around and under his arm like a dancer, spinning away but then always back towards him.

Emmett, for his part seemed amused by her antics. They brought a large smile to his face that widened whenever they made the slightest eye contact.

"Oh, forgot," from his pocket Emmett withdrew a little pouch and handed it to her. "I brought those portable flats, since we're walking. I didn't want your feet to hurt."

Elle looked down at her sparkly heeled feet and smiled to herself. "You're too sweet."

Emmett shrugged. "I want you to be comfortable."

On an empty street, only a few blocks from their apartment Emmett tugged on Elle's hand to stop her in her tracks. The moon was full and bright, the street lamps glowed gold above them. He drew her closer and stared into her eyes. His hands squeezed hers tightly. They felt clammy.

"Do you remember," he began, "when we met? It was your very first day of Harvard." Of course she remembered. "I don't really know why, but the moment I saw you, I liked you. And, don't take this the wrong way, but I will always be so grateful that Callahan kicked you out of class."

Elle giggled.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say it-" _Uh oh._

Slow on the uptake. She should have realized. He was dressed so nice, and Emmett never drinks! He was wearing hair gel! What was she, blind? Ohmigod. This would take quite a bit of ingenuity to get out of, some clever sidestepping.

Elle threw her arms around Emmett's neck and assaulted his lips with her. She pressed her body into his and leaned all her weight on him. He stumbled back a few steps but compensated in time.

Emmett's eyes were wide in surprise to find his arms suddenly full of Elle and his lungs suddenly empty of air.

For a few more moments Elle ran her fingers through his hair and forcefully plumbed his mouth for the words and opportunities she hadn't found yet. In this moment, holding him, she couldn't quite remember why it was important that she ask the question, but she held on to the mighty conviction that it was.

Eventually she pulled away and her teeth reluctantly freed his bottom lip with a 'pop'. Elle bit her own lip and mustered up her best bedroom eyes. Then pulled out the best weapon she had in her arsenal. She pulled away slightly and dropped her purse.

"Oops," she said in an insincere way, which might have attracted notice from her companion, had his head not been swimming with a mix of fear, excitement and sex.

Her heart was beating so fast. What had once come second nature to her, like breathing, was suddenly dandelions in the wind. Wait. How do you breathe again? Two in then one out right? How-?!

 _Get a hold of yourself Elle_.

She bent forward over one knee. Wait, was her dress too short for this? Oh well, no turning back now. She grasped her purse strap and snapped up, hands framing her breasts and drawing attention to them.

She could practically see Emmett's pupil's dilating. He looked like he'd short-circuited. Perfect.

 _The Bend and Snap. Works every time._

"Sooo," drawled Elle.

Emmett sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward, thanking his lucky stars above. "We could be home in like two minutes if we run." A pause, "or if I piggy-back you."

"It's like you read my mind," she joked and dashed into the windy Boston night, closely followed by her suitor.

Thing is, by his third attempt, Emmett catches on that something's up. Which there is.

He'd have to be stupid not to, honestly.

Attempt #2 is less… subdued. He calls up the Delta Nus, gets David and Vivienne involved and skypes in her parents. He puts a deposit down on the back room of a bar and plans a whole surprise in front of everyone she loves. Mysteriously, not a single one of them is available. He gets his deposit back, but can't reign in his disappointment.

It's his third attempt that clues him in. They're strolling across campus. Emmett steers them towards the bench where he found her that night, in the bunny costume. He'd had a whole speech prepared. It was long and full of metaphors. It was also sort of structured like a closing argument. All of it flew right out of his head as he stared into Elle's face. Her blue eyes were wide and brimming with excitement, her smile so wide that it left laugh lines.

"You're my best friend," he tells her and strokes her hair.

She looks dazed until he begins to speak again, "Elle, will-"

She suddenly snaps out of it and starts waving wildly to someone behind him.

David, looking very confused and frightened, approaches them.

"HI DAVID," Elle says too loudly. "How are you. What are you doing. You want to go over the midterm outline? Me too! Let's go, right now."

And she's off, dragging the shyest and most confused giant in the world behind her.

Emmett feels a little thick.

It's after that that he starts to test her. Every time he so much as hints at proposing, Elle finds some way to escape the situation.

Once, he'd tried while they were in the shower. She bolted out of there with suds still in her hair.

A Friday evening in April found Emmett at the office. It was far past five, almost everyone had already gone home, when Daniel Levi knocked and entered his office without pausing. He didn't look up from his phone when he asked him _what the hell he was still doing here._

When Daniel received no response he looked up from the device, only to be greeted by an incongruous sight.

Emmett was sitting at his desk in shirtsleeves, tie askew and hair messy. On the desk in front of him was a bottle of scotch and a novelty shot glass. Both had previously been decorative. He did not look well.

"You doing okay there, buddy?" Daniel, who had been a year behind Emmett in school, had never seen Emmett drink so much as a beer. He approached slowly, as if afraid to startle a deer. "Why don't you take that home and drink that there?"

"I can't," Emmett slurred, clearly already a few shots in.

"Why not?"

"Elle's there."

Daniel had met Elle a few times, but didn't know her well. She'd always been sweet and polite, and she and Emmett were clearly wildly in love. "What's so bad about that?" asked Daniel with a smile, "Elle won't drink with you?"

"I think Elle's gonna break up with me."

Well. That was dire.

Daniel didn't laugh, but he could have. He seriously doubted that was true. "What makes you think that?"

Emmett's eyes were glassy and unfocused. He waved his arms around in wild frustration. "I don't know! I thought everything was fine, but every time I try to propose to her she interrupts me!"

"Interrupts you how?"

"Lots of ways, mainly sex."

Daniel's sympathy levels fell. "Let me get this straight. You are complaining that the woman of your dreams, who is frankly smoking hot, keeps jumping your bones and is not demanding a commitment. This is bad, how?"

"It just is!"

"Uh huh."

"It's a lot of sex okay!"

"Sure."

"I just want to hug her and marry her and move to some nonspecific place and travel the world with her."

"Okay then." Daniel felt that this was an appropriate time to cut Emmett off. He screwed the bottle of amber alcohol closed and placed it back on the dusty shelf from whence it came. The novelty Hollywood shotglass was left forgotten on the desk. He helped Emmett out of his chair and to the door. The older man went along cooperatively. "So what do you think the problem is? Maybe she just doesn't believe in marriage."

"No, she does."

"Maybe she doesn't think you're that serious."

Emmett frowned, "We've been together like, soooo long." Daniel snorted. "And we talked about moving places."

"Like in general?"

"Like together n stuff. We're like peanut and butter!"

"You mean Jelly. And what?"

"We go together, man."

"Okay," Daniel laughed again and half carried him to the elevator.

He drove Emmett home, walked him up the stairs and knocked on his apartment door. He hoped Elle was home because no way was he checking Emmett's pockets.

The door swung open to reveal Elle, in full fluffy pajama'ed regalia. "Oh my god! Is he okay?!" She shouted, rushing forward to grab Emmett. She touched his ruddy cheek and searched his face for signs of distress.

"He's fine, just a little sloshed."

"Sloshed?!"

"Yeah," Daniel shrugged. "It's not really my place but maybe when he sobers up you guys should have a talk."

Her wide blue eyes narrowed in confusion, "About what?"

Daniel gestured at his drunken coworker, "Not really sure, but this isn't normal."

"No," Elle bit her lip, " I guess it's not. Thanks for bringing him home."

As Daniel walked leisurely back to his car, he spared no thought for the couple upstairs. The moment she'd opened the door, he'd known they were going to be okay.

Meanwhile, Elle ushered Emmett to the couch. "What the hell Emmett?!" She smacked his arm and glared at him.

Emmett kicked off his shoes and crossed his legs Indian style. "What?" he asked after refocusing.

"What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong. With. You."

"You're the hell what's wrong with me," he snorted.

Elle looked sad and that hurt a little. "Sorry, didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Well you did," she replied petulantly. "I was worried."

Emmett pitched forward and their foreheads smacked together. He ran his fingers through her hair and held her to him.

Elle could smell the scotch on his breath and see the odd dreaminess to his eyes. "Emmett," she whispered.

"We're okay, right Elle?"

"Emmett, you're scaring me."

"You've been weird and I was scared," he admitted, "but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I love you, I don't need us to get married, I just want to be with you."

Elle frowned, maybe she was not as smooth or subtle as she'd originally thought. Her heart ached for how she must have hurt his feelings with her hasty escapes and excuses. For a moment she contemplated just saying 'yes'. She desperately wanted to. It would make him so happy and it would make her even happier.

But she'd come so far, and she finally figured out how she wanted to do it.

Elle kissed Emmett's cheek and scratched the hair at the scruff of his neck. "You are the best thing about everything," she told him, "Wait for me a little longer, okay?"

"Yeah," agreed Emmett, drunkenly. He stretched his arms and leaned back into the couch.

"I'm gonna make you something to eat." She patted his knee and went to pop some leftovers in the microwave.

She wasn't sure how, but she could wait a month. Just one month until graduation, the culmination of everything she'd worked for and everything than Emmett had helped her achieve. The best day of her life was twenty-three days away and Elle couldn't wait another second.


End file.
